Cold as Ice

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Cold as Ice Page 17

by Lee Weeks


  Chapter 25

  Tracy looked at her watch; Steve would be heading to work soon from the hotel. She ought to phone him. She prepared herself; a deep breath, a smile on her face.

  He answered; she could hear the breakfast news on in the background.

  ‘Steve? Are you okay?’

  He sighed irritably. ‘Is she back yet?’ His tone was sarcastic.

  Tracy snapped. ‘It’s serious.’

  ‘Serious in what way?’ He still didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘The young woman found in Regent’s Canal was a friend of Danielle’s. The police think that the same man has Danielle. He’s keeping her hostage. It was terrible, Steve. He’s been phoning me.’

  ‘It’s probably some prank – the whole thing,’ he countered, not taking in what Tracy had said about the phone call. ‘I knew it would end like this. I told you she’d be nothing but trouble. So let me guess. We’re stuck with the kid? I’ll tell you where she is. She’s done a runner and left us with her disabled son to look after.’ His voice rose, almost hysterical. ‘Tell me he’s not staying with us permanently?’

  ‘I can’t, Steve. I can’t just abandon him. He’s not disabled – he has learning difficulties – special needs that’s all. He’s a lovely little boy and quite bright.’ Tracy found herself screeching back at him. As hard as she’d tried to stay calm, it hadn’t worked and she was tired of staying calm. ‘For God’s sake, he’s got no one else, Steve. It’s not his fault.’

  ‘She must have got friends, relatives of her own? She must have someone who can look after him?’

  ‘No she hasn’t. She’s got me and I feel like I have to. He’s my grandson – our grandson.’

  ‘He’s nothing to do with me.’

  Tracy closed her eyes. Suddenly she felt exhausted by it all. She wanted to cry. Instead she put a smile back on her face.

  ‘I know it’s hard, love. I need your support right now. I’m not going to pretend it’s going to be easy but it just has to be done.’ Tracy reached down and began smoothing Jackson’s hair whilst she talked. He had just come into the kitchen.

  ‘Who else is there?’ asked Steve irritably.

  ‘Just Jackson right at this minute. A policewoman will be arriving any time now; she’s called a Family Liaison Officer. She’s here to help us in any way we need. You know, even with the cost of everything.’

  ‘Cost?’

  ‘Well, it will cost money to have Jackson here. Not much. But I’m not working. We will have to depend on your money and I’m not sure where it’s all going to at the moment. I haven’t seen much of it lately.’

  ‘Typical – all you really care about: money . . .’

  ‘Steve . . . please . . . that’s not fair.’

  ‘What is fair?’ Steve hit back. ‘I haven’t worked hard for years to end up using my cash up on a kid you had when you were fifteen – and her “special” son.’ Tracy heard the phone go dead. She wanted to cry. She bit her lip instead. She ran her fingers through Jackson’s baby hair. She knew Steve would be sorry by now. She was sure he’d want to call her back and apologize. She had no support from the one person she should have been able to rely on. She took a deep breath and tutted to herself. She needed to get a grip. She needed to be the strong one.

  Tracy put the phone down and looked down at Jackson. He was staring up at her. She reached for a tissue to wipe his nose, which seemed to be always running. He stood still for three seconds and then he squirmed away from her.

  ‘Okay. Okay. That will have to do. Let me look at your new clothes.’ She knelt on the floor beside him. He stood back and pointed to the front of his jumper with its blue train.

  ‘Thomas,’ he said proudly.

  ‘Yes. Thomas the Tank Engine. Shall we see if we can find anything on the telly for you to watch?’ Jackson looked deep into Tracy’s eyes, his expression worried. He put his arms around her neck and she had such a job to stop from crying. Scruffy came running into the kitchen at that moment and began furiously licking Tracy’s face as she cuddled Jackson. Then Scruffy switched his attention to Jackson and started licking his ears. Jackson hid his head in Tracy’s neck as he giggled. Scruffy went around the other side and began licking any patch of skin he could see.

  ‘Scruffy, for God’s sake.’ Tracy pushed him away but he came around the back and put his paws on her shoulders and began licking Jackson’s other ear. Jackson squirmed and laughed and Tracy fell backwards onto the kitchen floor with Jackson on top of her and Scruffy on top of them both. She laughed. She held on to Jackson who was shrieking with laughter and pulled Scruffy to sit with them as she hugged them both.

  ‘Group hug.’

  Tracy couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like that. She felt guilty that it was in such awful circumstances.

  ‘Right!’ She picked herself up from the floor and went to get Jackson’s coat and Scruffy’s lead.

  ‘We’re sick of staying in. We can’t be prisoners, can we, Jackson, and this mad dog needs a walk, don’t you, Scruffy?’

  Tracy took Jackson to the park at the other end of the nearby shops and they tied Scruffy outside the children’s play area whilst Jackson played. At the end of an hour she sat on the swing with Jackson on her lap. She had almost forgotten what it was like to sit on a swing. The last time she’d sat on one had been when a child was growing inside her. It had been the first time she’d felt the flutter of feet kicking inside her and she didn’t know what it was. After that her life had catapulted forward and there were no more swings for her. Jackson had gone quiet, the way he always did on the swings. They soothed him. He sat heavily on Tracy’s lap and she held onto him with one arm. She was thinking how lovely it was when their peace was disturbed by the sound of Scruffy barking; ‘What’s Scruffy barking at?’ she said aloud. She looked up to see him straining on his lead and snapping at a man who was standing close to him. Jackson heard it too and went to jump down off Tracy’s lap.

  ‘Wait, Jackson, wait.’ But Jackson didn’t listen and he slipped from Tracy’s grasp and landed face down on the concrete. He waited four seconds to gather the scream in his lungs before it erupted and Tracy had to struggle to pull him up from the ground and stand him upright. She looked at the bump above his eyebrow.

  ‘It’s okay, Jackson. Please . . . please stay still so Nanny can have a look.’ He squirmed from her touch, trying to get away. She couldn’t make him stay still. The whole park seemed to be screaming. From the corner of her eye she saw the bright flames at the side of the park, just outside the children’s play area, and she realized she actually could hear people screaming And there was a terrible sound of an animal in agony.

  Tracy’s legs started running before she had even made sense of what she was seeing. She shouted towards the nearest mum, ordering her to look after Jackson, and then she ran faster than she’d run since she was a girl. As she ran she unbuttoned her coat and then she leapt over the gate. Scruffy was a ball of fire; the smell of burning hair and petrol fumes rose around him in acrid smoke. He was rearing and twisting against the leash to try and get away. Tracy tugged at her coat as it got stuck in the sleeve. She threw it over Scruffy as she pinned him down and smothered the flames. The flames caught hold of her dress and she felt the heat as she choked in the smoke. She heard a woman shouting at her:

  ‘You’re on fire!’

  Tracy patted at the flames on her dress and she felt a blast of cold water as someone emptied a bottle of water over her. She lay with her arm across Scruffy as the flames disappeared and turned her face to cough and clear her lungs.

  ‘Nanny?’ She looked up to see Jackson standing the other side of the fence, the young mum holding him back. His terrified eyes filled with tears.

  ‘It’s all right, Jackson’ Scruffy had gone quiet and Tracy feared that he was dead beneath her coat. Then she heard him whimper and she had a sudden urge to cry with relief, but she dreaded lifting her coat to see what he looked like. Tracy made a call to Jeanie and told h
er what had happened.

  ‘What about you? Are you okay?’

  ‘I don’t know what to do about Scruffy. He’s really badly burned.’

  ‘There’s a police vet service. I’ll call them for you. I’ll see you back at your house. You sure you’re all right, Tracy?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘On second thoughts – stay there. I’ll come and get you.’

  The pet ambulance came to pick up Scruffy, who had been whimpering non-stop. He was still wrapped in Tracy’s coat. She was shivering in the cold. Her hand ached. It was only when she looked at it that she realized it was burnt. Blisters had formed and burst and the peeled skin was weeping.

  Tracy looked up to see Jeanie walking across to them. There was still a handful of women but most had left and taken their kids away. The smell and sight of Scruffy on fire was not easily dealt with.

  ‘What happened – do you know?’

  Tracy shook her head. ‘Jackson and I were on the swing, he fell off my lap and bumped his head and then the next thing everyone was screaming and Scruffy was on fire. Who could have done a thing like that?’ Jeanie shook her head.

  Jeanie shook her head. ‘Kids’ idea of a sick joke. Or someone off their head on something.’ She looked at Tracy’s hand. ‘We need to get that dressed.’

  For once, Tracy didn’t object.

  Jeanie took Tracy and Jackson up to A&E and they waited for an hour in Casualty for Tracy to be seen. Jeanie went to get something for Jackson to eat whilst they hung about. She bought him a drawing book. He sat down on the floor of the waiting room and drew a picture. Jeanie could see the yellows and reds and she didn’t need to ask whether that was Scruffy in the middle. Poor Jackson was going to have to get past another trauma. Jeanie wondered if it would set them back. They would have to pray Scruffy survived.

  Tracy came back with her hand bandaged and instructions to come back in two days for her dressing to be changed. Jeanie drove them both home. The atmosphere in the car was pensive. Tracy had a million things on her mind – none of them nice.

  ‘Is Jackson okay – he’s very quiet?’ Jeanie asked. Tracy looked behind her at Jackson on his booster seat.

  ‘He’s fast asleep.’

  ‘I have to talk to you about something, Tracy. There’s been another woman’s body found.’

  ‘Oh God.’ Tracy looked across at Jeanie.

  ‘It’s not Danielle but there is something I need to show you.’ Jeanie reached inside the glove compartment and pulled out a small brown crime scene bag. ‘Have a look at what’s inside. Do you recognize it?’

  Tracy anchored the bag using her bandaged left hand and opened it with her right. Jeanie heard her gasp.

  ‘It’s my bracelet.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course. Without a doubt. All of these charms mean something to me. I gave this bracelet to Danielle. Where did you get it?’

  ‘We found it on the woman’s body this morning.’

  ‘Then it must be Danielle.’ Tracy couldn’t keep the anguish from her voice.

  Jeanie replied calmly. ‘No. It isn’t.’

  ‘Then why? How?’

  Jeanie shook her head. ‘We don’t know but it’s a message from Hawk. That’s what we call him.’

  In the gloom of the car Tracy was wide-eyed and whispering so as not to wake Jackson. ‘What kind of a message? What’s he saying?’

  ‘We think you should do a television appeal. Would you be up for it, Tracy? You don’t have to.’

  ‘What would it achieve?’

  ‘I think you’re caught in this triangle that the killer has created. He’s calling all the shots at the moment. If we put you on television and present him with a scenario, that’s out of his control.’

  ‘What would I say?’

  ‘Leave that to us. Analysts are studying the phone calls and then we will decide.’

  Tracy was thinking it over but she knew she had to do it. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Thanks, Tracy. I’ll let you know when it will be; probably in a couple of days – it takes time to organize. You should ask Steve to come home, Tracy, give you moral support.’

  She nodded. ‘First I want to see how Scruffy is doing. She took out her phone and dialled the number on a card. After a brief conversation she came off the phone. ‘He’s going to be okay.’

  Jeanie was relieved.

  ‘He wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for you and the sacrifice of your coat,’ she said.

  ‘Oh well, I can always get another coat. I’m just worried who’s going to pay the vet bills for Scruffy. I don’t have any money to do it.’

  ‘Don’t worry. He’ll be looked after by the police vet.’

  ‘Thank you. They said he should be able to come home in a week or two.’

  ‘As long as he’s going to be all right in the end, that’s the main thing. Jackson will be happy to have him back.’

  Once they’d arrived at the house, Jeanie made tea for Jackson. Tracy was restless.

  ‘I want to go and see Steve now and tell him that I need him to come home. Is that okay?’

  ‘Can you drive like that?’

  Tracy pulled a big mitten glove over her injured hand. ‘Should be fine. It’s an automatic.’ She hesitated. ‘But – I don’t have to go if you think I should stay here, if it would be better for Jackson.’

  ‘No – you go.’

  After Tracy had left, Jeanie gave a now wide-awake Jackson a snack and decided to have another session with him. She was aware of the ticking clock for memory recall with a child his age. She also needed to ease his mind about what had happened with Scruffy. She cleared Jackson’s plate and moved him in to sit at the lounge table. She took the puppet of Scruffy out of the bag.

  ‘Who’s this, Jackson?’

  Jackson looked at it – his mouth turned down and quivered: ‘Poor Scruffy.’

  ‘Yes – this is Scruffy and Scruffy had an accident today, didn’t he?’ Jackson nodded. ‘But do you know what, Jackson? He is such a strong little dog that Scruffy is doing very well and should be back here very soon.’ She counted seven with him on his fingers. ‘Then we’ll have to look after him, won’t we?’

  Jackson nodded. Jeanie wiped his eyes and nose.

  ‘Okay, Jackson you don’t need to worry now. And who’s this?’ She pulled out the next puppet, the small blond boy.

  ‘Jackson.’

  ‘Good boy. Yes, it’s Jackson and Scruffy. Here . . .’ She put the two together on the table and put her hand back into the bag. ‘See Jackson and Scruffy are playing together?’ He wasn’t listening. ‘Jackson . . . listen to me a minute . . .’ He was distracted. His face had crumpled and big tears welled up in his eyes. He tried to get down from the chair and accidentally knocked the bag of puppets out of Jeanie’s hand and onto the floor. The puppet with the Daddy Pig face fell out.

  ‘Listen, Jackson. Who’s this?’ She picked up the Daddy Pig puppet.

  Jackson immediately screwed up his face in anger and shouted at the Daddy Pig puppet: ‘NO!’

  ‘What is it, Jackson?’

  ‘Poor Scruffy. What’s Scruffy barking at?’

  ‘Is that what Nanny said?’

  He nodded, big moves of his head. ‘Scruffy doesn’t like that man.’

  ‘Which man is that?’

  ‘The man next to Scruffy in the park. Scruffy barking.’

  ‘Who was that man?’

  ‘Mummy said, “Get out. Get out.” Nanny said, “What’s Scruffy barking at?” Leave Scruffy alone. I banged my head.’ Jackson touched the bump on his forehead.

  ‘Is that why you tried to get off Nanny’s lap? Because you saw the man hurting Scruffy?’ Jackson nodded. He was becoming upset.

  ‘Do you know the man who hurt Scruffy, Jackson?’

  Jackson nodded. ‘Daddy Pig. No, no, NO!’

  ‘Was it the same man who hurt Mummy?’

  He nodded, kept nodding; his eyes looking far away as they filled with tears
.

  Chapter 26

  Robbo stood next to Carter, ready to speak at the meeting in the Enquiry Team Office. The place was packed. It was the largest of the offices and always used when a meeting of the entire team was necessary. With the discovery of a new victim even Chief Inspector Bowie was present. Behind Robbo the photos of Emily Styles and Danielle Foster were pinned to one of the many boards around the walls. He pinned a new photo next to them.

  ‘I’ve just got the results of the X-rays from Doctor Harding – taken while she’s waiting for the body to thaw. The victim had a history of traceable injuries from when she was hit by a car as a child and we have a match with dental records. It’s definitely this woman. Pauline Murphy.’ It was a photo of a dark-haired woman in her twenties taken at a winter wedding. ‘She went missing a year ago in December 2012.’

  A murmur went around the office as the team took in the timescale being talked about. Ebony was sitting at her desk opposite Jeanie. Everyone had been called in to the meeting. Jeanie had a lot she wanted to say.

  ‘Pauline disappeared without trace after a night out with friends. It was believed that she had started to make her way home alone when she was abducted. She was last seen leaving a bar on Upper Street at one in the morning. Like the others, Pauline was a single parent. She had a child of three who has since moved to France with the father.

  ‘Pauline was described by those who knew her as a loyal friend; she was a sweet-natured woman who had struggled academically because she was dyslexic. She was attending an evening class once a week studying IT.’

  Carter turned and looked at the map on the board behind him. ‘He dumps a body in the middle of one of London’s best-known open spaces. The Heath covers over seven hundred acres.’ It was colour-coded for the areas. ‘She was found here.’ There was a red sticker placed over where they found her body.

  ‘Who patrols the Heath? Who’s responsible for it?’ asked Bowie. Bowie was handed a mug of coffee. He looked like he needed it. He had large bags beneath his eyes.

 

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